Tabula Rasa
by Eriaana
Summary: Tintin and Captain Haddock have had a hard day with many unexpected people turning up. However, when an accident occurs with Calculus' latest experiment, no-one can remember anything! What's the worst that can happen when you can't remember your best friend? TintinxHaddock and BiancaxCalculus.
1. Chapter 1

Well. This is it. My second story on this site (and indeed, on any). EVER. And my first Tintin one, although hopefully not my last. I may have slightly got the initial idea when watching a few Buffy episodes three days ago, so if you've watched it, there may be a few similarities. If you hadn't, then **watch them. Watch them ALL**.

I apologise in advance for any (incredibly rare) spelling or grammatical mistakes, lack of humour (believe me, it is meant to be slightly humourous, but one can never be too sure. And yes, 'humourous' can be spelt that way, because I hail from merry England) or terrible romantic moments. You see, I am not naturally talented at writing romance stories-I have never tried, but call it intuition-so if anything seems a bit 'off' or stilted, I really am very sorry.

Yes, there will be TintinxHaddock (and some BiancaxCalculus) in this story. If you don't care for it, then you don't read it.

Disclaimer: It is with great regret that I must announce that I don't own Tintin, his adventures, the characters in them, the film, books or the merchandise. Or Buffy. Which is equally as sad.

* * *

It was a well-know fact that the esteemed Professor Calculus was a genius. It went unsaid, but it was undoubtedly common knowledge. If you were to walk up to someone on a busy street in Brussels and enquire about the Professor, the common response was a gasp of recognition, and a quick sentence or two about his latest invention, and the genius of it. It was there, always there, in every single comment about the man. He was an absolute _genius._

But he was also rather odd. Perhaps 'eccentric' was a kinder word. While many of his inventions proved to be useful and beneficial to the world at large, it couldn't be denied that some of his creations were downright bizarre. Of course, they weren't released to the world at large; perhaps some secret service or another, but one fine day one resident at Marlinspike Hall felt that enough was enough.

"For the last time Cuthbert, enough is ENOUGH!"

"The tide is looking a little rough? How on earth do you know that Captain? We're nowhere near the sea."

"No, I said that-oh, what's the use?" Captain Haddock groaned. He wearily poked at the remains of his breakfast, and found that he had no appetite. A long conversation with Calculus did that to most people, and the Captain was no exception to that rule.

"Oh, don't mind the Captain, Professor. Now tell us more about your research." Spoke the exception to the rule. Tintin had finished his breakfast a while ago; having risen earlier than the captain dared, and was absorbed in what the Professor had to say. Calculus was only too delighted to elaborate on whatever it was that had caught his interest (which only further confirmed Haddock's suspicion that Calculus had 'selective' hearing). Thankfully, he was spared most of the mind-numbing lecture by the doorbell ringing. He practically leapt at the chance to escape (who wouldn't?) and instantly ran out into the hallway, only to find that Nestor had greeted the mystery visitor. Well. He could still greet them, couldn't he? It would only be fair as the 'owner' of this manor (and to prevent him from listening to any more of Calculus' hare-brained schemes).

"Well ahoy there! And who may you be?" _Professional and formal, Haddock. Professional and formal at all times when one is talking to –_

"Police! We're here to investigate a murder!"

"Police! To be precise, we've murdered an investigator! Wait, no, that's not right…"

Captain Haddock felt himself holding back a sigh. He motioned for Nestor to allow them in and with a brief- "wait here, gentlemen"- he walked back to the kitchen to find Tintin and have him deal with Thompson and Thomson. He was rather amused to see that Calculus was still talking, and poor Tintin was looking more than a little weary. He cleared his throat which caught Tintin's attention, although Calculus remained ignorant. The captain rolled his eyes and spoke to Tintin.

"It seems that you're needed lad. Our two 'heavenly twins' are asking about a murder."

"Crumbs! I'd better go and talk to them! It could be the start of an adventure!" Tintin exclaimed, a look of excitement crossing his face. Haddock let a sigh pass his lips. Catching Tintin's eye, he noticed that the other was giving a friendly glare.

"Well don't look at me like that lad! Blistering Barnacles, we've had enough adventures to last a lifetime! Don't tell me that we're off gallivanting around the world now!" Like Tintin's glare, the Captain's tone was friendly and light, but with a bit of weight behind it. Yes, he had enjoyed some of the adventures that they had, but he couldn't deny that every time they went off on another, the Captain always found himself feeling very worried. Not just for himself, but for Tintin. Yes, he knew that the boy was more than capable of looking after himself, and he was tougher than he looked, but he still worried. The boy had saved him from himself, so what would happen to the captain if Tintin ever died? The captain shook his head, getting rid of the macabre thoughts. He hadn't been feeling too good today, and he didn't want to feel any worse with such terrible thoughts running through his mind.

"Are you alright Captain?" Tintin enquired, peering up at him. Captain Haddock broke his train of thought, and smiled at Tintin.

"There's nothing wrong lad, just spacing out a little, I guess." Not exactly true, but hey-ho. Truth be told, his stomach was feeling a little…fluttery. Whenever he looked at Tintin it seemed to get worse. Hopefully it was just a little stomach bug or something. Nothing too serious. Smiling again at Tintin, they set off to meet the detectives. Calculus was unaware for 10 minutes until he looked up and saw that the kitchen was devoid of life except for an ambitious ladybird.

"Well, I do declare! How very rude of them to leave without so much as an 'excuse me'! And I was just about to inform them of my latest invention! It is a work of genius, able to manipulate the memory of the subject, a marvellous breakthrough! With this we can understand how the memory works, as it still remains to be a mystery to use, even now…quite a project… ….and I STILL say that it's still rather rude to ignore me and leave, anyhow."

* * *

"So, you're saying that you had nothing to do with it?"

"I can guarantee that the captain and I had nothing to do with the poor man's murder, detectives." Tintin calmly stated, stirring his 8th cup of tea. It was close to becoming 5 o' clock, and Captain Haddock was becoming more than a little impatient. He had been cooped up here for God knows how many hours, not allowed to leave for anything lest he was actually the murderer responsible for killing a representative of the Bordurian Government, and was about to make a crafty get away with the aid of a suspicious-looking milk van. (Tintin had actually felt it necessary to inform the two that he was in fact doing his daily rounds, and was a rather nice fellow named Charles Adrien, and no, he wasn't from Borduria, he was born in Mons.)So the long and short of it was that the Captain was incredibly bored and irritated, while Tintin was only a little vexed.

"Hmmm. Well, as you two must be rather busy and are definitely innocent, we'll take our leave. Sorry to disturb you two!"

"To be precise, we've disturbed you two by being sorry!" The two detectives made to leave, only to be somewhat delayed by a rather flustered Nestor who looked like he'd seen a ghost. Captain Haddock picked up on this straight away, and felt the need to crack a little joke, seeing as he'd been stuck here forever and a day;

"Hello there Nestor! What's the matter? You look like you've seen the Castafiore!"

It would be one of those moments he would look back on years later and dub it as a 'clichéd situational irony moment'.

"Fie, my dear Paddock! You are so smart, no? You knew I had arrived even though it had not yet been announced! It must be a gift!"

_ .Why._ "NESTOR!" Haddock bellowed, before realising that Nestor was still there. The poor man in question began to hastily explain himself, lest he bring down the captain's wrath upon himself.

"Well, you see sir, I was notified of her arrival beforehand about three hours ago, but when I tried to notify you, I was forbidden to enter, by order of these two detectives. My deepest apologies for failing to warn you sir."

Captain Haddock now turned his formidable glare to the Thompson twins. The pair flinched and held on to each other, bracing themselves for a scolding. If Haddock wasn't so angry, he would have found it comical. But his words died in his throat when Bianca began to talk;

"Oh dear me! It seems that I have caused a little bit of trouble, no? Mamma Mia! I am so sorry for causing dear Gladdock and you, dear Tintin, some problems! To cheer you all up, I will sing you the wonderful 'Jewel Song' from Faust. How wonderful that would be, no? Irrrma, Wagner, would you both come here, my darlings? It seems that we have to be a bother once more, my dears, as we were planning to stay for a little while so our luggage… never mind, I'm sure that we can deal with it later…"

Captain Haddock attempted to tune out her voice, but found that it was far too piercing to block out. He winced as soon as he heard her begin to sing that cursed song, polite murmurs of objection from others drowned out by that extremely loud voice of hers.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you would look at it, Calculus decided to enter, past annoyance forgotten (he had a few hours to get over it after all) and exclaimed in an excited voice over the nightmarish din, "My dear friends! Look at what I've just created! This extremely powerful chemical has taken me months to develop, and I call it…well, I don't know what to call it exactly, I was rather hoping that you would be so kind as to help me with that…but I digress, it's chemical 'name', so to speak, is TbRs, it is a compound, naturally, and I-oh I say! Look out!"

He found that he had been interrupted by two things, or rather, three people. Firstly, he was being urgently hushed by a nervous (and now partially deaf) Tintin, who was a little concerned that his chatter would disturb and upset Bianca enormously. Luckily, it seemed that she couldn't even hear anything over her own voice, and so remained blissfully unaware of the Professor's interruption. Secondly, and most importantly, the distraction caused by Calculus seemed to bring the detectives out of their terrified paralysis caused by Castafiore's singing, and came to their –very few- senses, before running off as fast as they could in order to escape the song and to inform headquarters that the suspicious milk van was just a milk van, not a potential get-away truck. However, in their desperate bid for freedom, they ran into Calculus who was still standing by the door, and sent the smaller man flying, which in turn sent the small flask he was carrying falling to the floor, shattering and spilling the cloudy liquid all over the floor.

Although a few people (Bianca being one of them) didn't notice, of the few that did, only Tintin and Calculus were concerned about the broken flask. While Thompson and Thomson were more concerned about prying their bowler hats off their heads and Captain Haddock was attempting to help them while muttering a variety of curses, Tintin and the Professor both looked at the broken flask with dismay.

"Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. Tintin, my boy, you must get everyone out of here. I'm not sure what this will do, but it's better to be safe rather than sorry. I'll get this cleaned up." Calculus shook his head before his was interrupted by Tintin, whose curiosity had overwhelmed him, as per usual.

"What exactly did that chemical do again, Professor?" He noticed that the remaining liquid seemed to be evaporating, and what was left was becoming clear. He wasn't sure if it was poisonous (he doubted it was) but he wanted to be sure. Just in case. He wouldn't want the Captain to be hurt. Or, indeed, any of the residents that were here, including himself. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Was it just him, or was everything becoming a little fuzzy? Not only that, but his stomach was a little fluttery…

"That's odd." Remarked Tintin, before he collapsed on the floor, Calculus following a few seconds later.

"Tintin!" Yelled the captain. "Are you alright lad? Blistering Barnacles…" he ran over to Tintin, and started to sway, before collapsing right next to the boy. This caused everyone to stop what they were doing, and to crowd around those who were unconscious. They almost immediately collapsed too.

As Snowy remarked to the cat later on, you would have thought that they would have known better.

* * *

Well. That's the first chapter up. I wasn't actually intending for it to be stupendously long, but as it turns out, it is. Funny how time flies, especially if you're meant to be revising…ah well. I promise that I'll update soon! Please review etc… criticism is appreciated, but please be civil~

I'll see you next time! :D


	2. Chapter 2

And this is the second chapter! Sorry for the wait, but school means work (who knew?) and work sadly means little time available for writing the latest chapter. But today I managed to find some time, and so here is the second chapter up!

Again, I apologise for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors-believe me when I say that English tends to be one of my stronger subjects- they are not intentional (presuming that I actually made a mistake or two).

Again, I do not own Tintin, or Buffy, they are owned by their respective author and… producer? (I don't know, and neither do you :D)

By the way, inner thoughts are expressed in italics.

On with the show!

* * *

How long they were actually out for went unknown, as none of them were awake to keep track, and Snowy was more concerned about his master than timing the unconscious people.

He had at first stayed where he was, unsure of what was happening or how to deal with it (it wasn't every day that the Professor knocked out everyone with some odd invention after all… just some days) for quite a while, before steeling himself and hesitantly going over to Tintin. He sat by his master for a while, whining softly to himself. Tintin was a hardy young man, and normally wasn't unconscious for long. However, clearly he and all the rest were well and truly out, and it concerned Snowy a lot. Then an idea hit him, and he moved over by Tintin's head and very gently licked his face (an action that normally provoked a response of some kind from the boy, conscious or not). He was rewarded with a small groan, and opening eyes.

He had no idea of how he came to be in this room, on the floor. All he had registered at first was gentle whining, and then a very rough tongue on his face. _An animal of some kind? What kind of animal? A dog, most likely… what is a dog? _His eyes hesitantly opened and he came face to face with a white, curly haired dog, somewhat resembling a fox terrier. _So that's a dog. Now I remember…one thing sorted at least. But where on earth am I? It looks like a sitting room of some kind, and it's huge. What happened?_

His confused thoughts were cut short by another groan that sounded very close. Almost like he was right next to him, in fact. He turned in order to see another man who was indeed right next to him, who was now stirring, and muttering unintelligible things while doing so (he could have sworn that he heard the word 'barnacles', but what did that have to do with anything?) The dog, who had been previously sitting on his lap, wagging his tail in joy, now gave a bark of surprise and gracefully jumped onto the other man, startling him somewhat.

"Arrgh! It's the giant rat of Sumatra!" Cried the stranger in a very accented and deep voice. The dog yelped in shock as well, and instantly fled to hide behind a little table-_a coffee table, I believe-_ but the other man, now apparently enraged ran over to it in order to catch the poor animal. Said animal seemed to anticipate this and began running around the table, with the furious stranger chasing him, yelling odd phrases at the top of his voice, which was rather loud to begin with. Eventually, the stranger seemed to tire of the chase, in a literal sense. _I believe that the word I'm looking for is 'Puce' _he thought to himself. The dog seemed to be as amused, and trotted over to the stranger, barking once, before heading towards yet another stranger, who was a rather odd looking fellow, with a large forehead and a green jacket (which wasn't all that odd, but he noticed it anyhow).

_Just how many of us are there?_ There were quite a few other people in the room as well, and the commotion caused by the angry man and the excitable dog was waking a fair few of them up. _The best thing to do would be to help them, I suppose. _And help them he did.

After everyone was up (he counted seven others, not including himself and the angry man, who was standing by the doorway, muttering angrily and glaring at the dog, who only wagged his tail in response) he decided to take charge of the situation. Why, he didn't know, it just felt like the natural thing to do. _I demand answers. _So maybe that was the reason, and by the looks on everyone else's faces, they seemed to be just as confused as he was, which was oddly reassuring. However, he was interrupted by a rather odd looking chap sporting a bowler hat and a slightly curved moustache.

"I say! What on earth is going on? Who are you people? Where am I? What happened to me?"

"To be precise, what happened to us? I demand an answer! Or maybe a few more!" This was said by another, strikingly similar to the first, only that his moustache was straight. _Perhaps they're twins… _once again, he decided to take charge, and this time, he was successful. Or at least, was slightly successful.

"Please gentlemen, calm down." _Is that my voice? It sounds… light, which I think is odd in a male, which I'm pretty sure that I am. But it's familiar, but that's to be expected-_

"I beg your pardon? Who on earth are you? How dare you tell ME to calm down! I will not be talked to that way by a stranger. A strange one, no less!"

"To be precise, it's strange that we're talking to a stranger!"

"Please gentlemen. I have no idea where we are either. I don't remember anything, the same as you peop-" he cut himself off with the most perplexing thought he had had (and he'd a few recently). _He is right. Who am I? What is my name? What do I do? _He turned to the rest of the group suddenly, who had been quietly watching the whole affair.

"Do you know who you are?" He was met with puzzled and confused expressions and denials. He sighed to himself. _This is going nowhere. I have no idea as to who, what or where I am, and no one else has a clue, either. _

"Oh! Wait a second!" A rather eager cry arose from the back. A small, mousy looking man with spectacles was rummaging around in his jacket, before finding a small wallet. He gave a cry of triumph and instantly held up a passport which had been stored in there.

"My name's Igor Wagner! That's definitely me! That's my name! I'm a-a musician! Look! It says it here, under 'Occupation'!"

"That's great! Maybe some of us also have identification! Quickly, look in your pockets!" He went to look in his own, before he was (once again, this was becoming a habit) interrupted by no less than the two eccentric bowler hat twins.

"By Jove! It says here that my name is Thompson! I'm a detective at Interpol! Good Lord, how exciting!"

"By Golly! This is most extraordinary! My pass says that I'm called Thomson! And would you believe this!? It says that I work at Interpol too! And you'll never guess what as!"

"Ummm… the janitor?"

"No! Don't be a dummy! I'm also a DETECTIVE! Just as you are? Isn't that incredible?"

"No need to call me a dummy! How rude!"

"Rude? You dare call me rude?! Well I never! You're annoying! You're probably my sidekick anyway! So there!"

"Sidekick?! I am nobody's sidekick! You are-"

"Goodness Gracious! You don't think-"

"Surely not-"

"It can't be true-"

"It IS TRUE!"

"We're… we must be brothers!" And with that, they fell into each other's arms, weeping uncontrollably at the discovery of their brotherhood. All rather touching (if a little disturbing), but he had other matters to attend to, such as finding out his OWN identity. He found a brown leather wallet in the back of his trousers-_rather odd ones at that… do I play golf or something?-_ and quickly opened it, his heart racing. It didn't take him long to find his pass, buried a little under some banknotes. He studied it intensely, desperate for answers. He didn't notice the angry man with the loud voice nearing him until said loud voice nearly made him jump a foot in the air.

"So then. Your name?" He looked up, startled for a little while, but quickly regained his composure, before answering a little hesitantly –_should I tell him? He is a stranger after all… I suppose it can't hurt…_

"It's… Tintin. I'm from Belgium, apparently. Nice to meet you, sir." He was surprised at how easily his name rolled off his tongue. _It's… unusual certainly, but it has a certain feel to it… this is a name that I chose, that's for sure. _

"Oh? An odd name, for sure, but then I can't judge." Upon noticing Tintin's gaze, he added, "My name is Haddock. Archibald Haddock. I hail from Belgium, same as you lad. It seems that I'm also a Captain. Pretty cool, come to think of it…"

Tintin decided to find out his own occupation, and found that he was a reporter. He didn't know why, but he felt a surge of pride at the discovery. It felt so right, him being a reporter, somehow. They searched for the truth in order to reveal secrets, almost like an adventurer or a spy. It felt like he had recovered an important part of himself. _Must be a pretty intense job, not that I can remember. _His train of thought was interrupted by the little white terrier who had trotted over to him, and sat obediently at his feet, tail wagging. Tintin reached down to scratch his ears, feeling a surge of affection for the dog. The dog responded well to this treatment, his tail wagging even more if that was possible. _Could he be my dog? He seems to be more comfortable around me than he is with the others. _As he petted the dog, he tried to come up with a name for him (he assumed the dog was a boy) and eventually thought of 'Milou'. It somehow suited the terrier, even though Tintin doubted it was the dog's actual name, but due to the circumstances, he felt it would do. While he gave his mostly undivided attention to the dog, he couldn't help but overhear the other conversations that the other residents were having. It wasn't deliberate, he was just being… observant. He felt that as a reporter, he probably would have been listening in anyway, in order to gain vital information.

…

"You know, dear brother, it's a good thing that we found our passes. I was beginning to think that I was put here for some ghastly scientific experiment!"

"To be precise, we are ghastly scientific experiments? I don't think that's quite right, you know…"

"This isn't real…this is just some horrible dream… or something…" a fairly middle-aged (if not older) looking man was having, to be blunt, a complete and utter meltdown. His striped yellow and black vest was by far the most distinctive feature on him. An equally middle-aged woman dressed in black knelt down to calmly talk to him. Tintin also noticed that she had a very heavy accent. He decided to leave them be.

"Weeell, I must say that this is all rather fun~!" A very piercing, high voice broke through Tintin's musings. He looked around to see a very… strong featured woman in beautiful (and probably very expensive) clothes, who seemed to be enjoying the whole spectacle now that the initial confusion had worn off. She was talking to the odd looking man Tintin had noticed earlier. Now that he looked closer, Tintin felt that there had to be more to him than that. He had a sort of intelligent aura around him that screamed 'genius'. If anyone were to know what was going on, it would be he. However, he was discouraged from getting up to talk to him as soon as he realised the man was deaf to a ridiculous degree. Not completely deaf, there was nothing ridiculous about that, but a sort of deliberate, selective deafness that stemmed from stubbornness and general eccentricity. And as he seemed to be enraptured by the loud (even louder than that Haddock man) woman, he decided that he would let them continue their discussion uninterrupted.

* * *

Professor Calculus was having a good day. Well, and okay-ish day. If one ignored the fact that one had woken up in a strange room with eight total strangers and no one had any recollection of anything, then yes, his day was a good one. Not least because he was talking to one of the most wonderful women he had ever met.

Contrary to how most women (or indeed, most people in general) would act upon awakening, she had reacted with extraordinary grace, and was even now totally optimistic and brave. _A strong willed woman indeed, _he thought to himself. Aside from that, she was an excellent conversationalist, and even though he was actually slightly deaf, he made an active effort to listen to her, even if some words *coughsentencescough* were a little lost in translation.

"And who, my darling, are you?" She practically cooed.

"My name seems to be Cuthbert. Cuthbert… well… I don't actually know. I have no identification madame. But that is irrelevant my lady. Who are you?"

She giggled. "I'm not entirely sure, dear. Like you, I also have no identification. Mamma Mia, we are indeed two lost souls, are we not?"

That was not strictly true. For some reason, Calculus seemed to be able to recollect the most unusual things that would have been vital to everyone else. He knew his own name, for example. Well, his first name at any rate. But it was a good start, all things considered. He had no idea what he did, although he felt that it was a big part of his life and that he was extremely good at it. That and the fact this woman's name was, without any shadow of a doubt, Bianca. He told this to her, and she was delighted.

"Oh my dear Cuthbert! You are truly my saviour! We must know each other very well, for you to remember something as trivial as my name!" Here Calculus blushed a little, and was about to murmur some dissent or another before she gave a gasp of surprise.

"Mamma Mia! But what is this? A ring of some kind?" And she was right. Aside from all the rest of her jewellery, one ring stood out in particular, and it was on her wedding ring finger.

"How extraordinary, my dear lady! Do you think-?" He hardly dared to believe it, but she seemed much more confident.

"I do not think, my dear… I am completely positive. We must be married! Oh, how wonderful it is to remember, at last!" And with that she embraced him wholeheartedly, and Calculus was delighted, and returned it with full force.

Meanwhile, the man who had previously been suffering from a mental breakdown had a sudden moment of clarity.

"What's this? I seem to be British… an interesting development."

And then he went back to crying.

* * *

Tintin was contentedly petting Milou when the Captain came and sat by him. Tintin wasn't unduly surprised. He had seen the man giving him strange looks frequently, and had felt it only a matter of time before the man confronted him about whatever it was that was bothering him.

"So, lad,"-Tintin bristled a little at that, he was no lad, by any means-"is it possible that we know each other, do you think?"

"Most likely." Tintin replied. It seemed to him that everyone probably knew each other very well, if not intimately, judging by the way the odd man and the loud woman were behaving. _Did they really have to do that there? Honestly, how undignified…_ tearing his permanently scarred eyes away from the scene, he returned to the conversation at hand.

"It feels like I know you, as all. I think we're quite close, actually." This comment surprised Tintin, who forced himself to look the Captain in the eyes. He was quite startled. They were a brilliant shade of blue, as deep as the ocean, yet they showed honesty, and something else that was intense, but something that Tintin couldn't figure out for the life of him, although he noted that his heart was racing a little, and his stomach felt light, as if there were butterflies flying around (A/N please don't shoot me for that clanger…). He then decided to look, really look, at the Captain.

He was middle aged, and carried it well. He had a rough, yet openly honest face, and his eyes were by far the most striking feature. He had unruly dark hair and a beard. He was wearing a naval outfit of some sort-_he is a captain, I suppose-_ and he was extremely good looking. In Tintin's eyes in any case, which unnerved Tintin slightly. He looked away, his face feeling a little hot, and he probably had a massive blush on his face. _Seems like I'm the type to blush easily. _This only intensified when he noticed the Captain studying him as he had done a few moments ago, and he caught a look of approval on the Captain's face, which made him feel a little uncomfortable, yet incredibly flattered. _Seems that I look okay then. Not that I've seen myself. _The Captain, noticing Tintin's gaze on him, looked away at once. An awkward, yet somehow comfortable silence ensued. Tintin was mentally berating himself. _I cannot believe that I found the Captain attractive… what on earth are we to each other? Could it be… no, no, it can't possibly be that way, that would be improper. Of course. That is obvious. If we do know each other, then we are probably friends. That is all. _Tintin tried to supress a small feeling of disappointment, and shook his head, trying to clear away his thoughts.

"You alright lad?" Tintin felt his irritability mount. That word annoyed him more than he could say, but he had to be polite, so he let it slide, for the time being, anyway. Thankfully, the Captain's attention was diverted elsewhere.

He had faintly heard the crying man suddenly realise that he was of British origin, but it had barely registered to Tintin, who was lost in his own thoughts. The Captain however, relieved that there was a small distraction, decided to take advantage of it, only to have it backfire on him spectacularly.

"British?! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahaaa, those irritating, stuck-up, nancy boys! Unlucky you, old boy, that's all I'm saying- wait, hold on… blistering barnacles… troglodytes… politicians… oh God, so am I… that's just great."

"Actually, sir, I think you'll find that you have more of a Scottish accent," Calculus interrupted, a little breathless. "The brogue is rougher, and-"

"Blistering Barnacles, do I look like I care!? Scotland is technically part OF Britain, so yes, I am British! And now apparently Scottish as well, so now- then how come my pass says that I'm from Belgium?"

As the ever-patient Calculus endeavoured to explain to the irate Captain of how one can change nationalities due to immigration, Tintin was thinking about the voice of the Captain. Calculus had been right indeed; it was deep, and not a little rough, but it had a wonderful lilt to it, all the same. Very much unlike his own, lighter tone. _The Captain's voice is far manlier than mine, it makes him even more-wait no, just stop thinking about that! The Captain is NOT REMOTELY ATTRACTIVE! NOT AT ALL! It's just the confusion from these strange events that is clouding my judgement. That's all. _ Still, he couldn't stop his pulse racing whenever he looked at the Captain, who was now yelling at Calculus over something trivial.

All of those residing in Marlinspike Hall were blissfully unaware of the stranger lurking outside one of the windows, one who was now aware that Tintin, the famed boy reporter, was not entirely himself.

* * *

The phone rang, startling the residents. It seemed so out of place, sure and confident, when everyone in the room was confused and lost. Eventually Calculus spoke up.

"I think that's the phone. I'll go and see to it, shall I?"

They all watched him leave, with Bianca in tow. Tintin suddenly had an idea.

"I say, shouldn't we all leave this room? There may be clues around this place that could shed light onto this affair." It was agreed that this was a pretty good idea, and so everyone else left too; the twins, still bickering animatedly, who ended up tripping over a flat surface, a skill in itself, the crying man, still sobbing uncontrollably, being led out of the room by the matronly lady, and poor Wagner, looking a little put out by being left alone, before deciding to go after the upset man and the kind woman. That left Tintin and Haddock to explore the place together. Followed by Milou, who stayed close to Tintin. They passed Calculus, who was answering the phone.

"Cutts the Butcher? Here? Well, I do declare… yes, yes, of course, soon as possible, yes, good-bye, ma'am." He turned to the other two, smiling broadly.

"It seems that some more light has been shed on this mystery. It turns out that I run a butchers, and my last name is Cutts. I must tell my dearest Bianca at once, but where is she? She must have gone out to look for other clues. Ah, she's such an independent lady~" and he ran off in a random direction, leaving Tintin and Haddock to go on. As they passed yet another endless hallway, Milou tensed and started growling, before taking off down another flight of stairs, towards the front door.

"Milou? What's wrong boy?" Tintin's curiosity was piqued, and he set off after the terrier, a little worried, leaving the Captain alone on the staircase.

"Okay then lad, I'll just go have a gander, see what I can find." The Captain called out after the retreating boy, before shaking his head in defeat, and turning away. _He has the most wonderful but- curses Archibald Haddock! What on earth are you thinking! Ridiculous, that's what you are! You must be shaken up from today, that's all. _And with that out of the way, he chose a door at random, and entered the room.

* * *

Tintin did his level best to keep up with Milou, and found that he was doing a pretty good job of it. _I must exercise regularly then. Good to know. _After being led down countless hallways and stairs, he found himself outside an unassuming looking door, which revealed a beautiful garden outside. He opened it with ease, and stepped outside. He sighed, relieved to have had the opportunity to clear his head at last. _I never realised how stifling that room was. _However, his delight was short lived as soon as he heard Milou growl again, and run at an even faster pace. Once again, Tintin was quick to follow, a little disappointed that he hadn't the time to explore the garden –or was it grounds? This place was a literal mansion- and all of its delights. _Maybe later, when I've sorted out this… problem. _

He entered a little clearing, by-he noticed with a little surprise- the window where he and all of the others had previously been. Milou was still growling, but Tintin couldn't see anything. He peered into the dense shrubbery behind him, yet he didn't catch any movement.

_Snap._

The sudden, sharp sound of a twig breaking was all that it took to make him uneasy. He still couldn't see anyone, but he had the sudden feeling that he wasn't alone. And Milou was still growling. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he slowly backed away, calling for Milou as he did. It took a while, a little too long for his taste, and nerves, but Milou reluctantly responded, following him back indoors. Just before he stepped foot back inside the relative safety of the house, he did a last sweep, and finding nothing, closed the door. _Probably a wild animal. Nothing to get so worked up over. _

But he still locked the door. Just in case.

He never noticed the shadowy figure revealing itself outside, behind the dense shrubbery. Nor did he see the grin. _Looks like the boy reporter isn't himself after all. This will make it all the more fun. _

And with that, the figure melted back into the bushes, and a relieved Tintin found the Captain, and felt himself be at ease again.

* * *

Wow. Second chapter up, eh? How about that? Once again I apologise for any mistakes, although I doubt that there were many.

I figured that Calculus would remember a few things, seeing as he is, indeed, a genius, and since he was working in close contact with the drug, he may have built up a little immunity to it. But clearly not enough eh?

It seems that Tintin is a little conflicted, but do not worry, all will be resolved!

Sorry about the sudden transition from excitable to downright creepy, but I had to get the main theme of the story running. And as for that creepy stranger (seriously, I was creeped out writing it!), well, you're just going to have to read on , no? Hahahahaha, my evil plan is in place! :3

Hopefully I will update soon, and thank you to everyone who reviewed, you really made my day! Lots of cyber hugs to you guys! I would offer cookies, but I'm awful at cooking so….yeah… (-_-")

Review or whatever, but criticism must be polite!

Thank you~


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